


Give Me Hope in the Darkness

by confettimisha



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confettimisha/pseuds/confettimisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes was in a lethal bike accident, and woke without a memory of anything of his life before. He knows two things: 1. that he is a painter 2. that his life is a lie, and that his friends are all keeping something from him. But to search for the truth of where he came from could lead to something incredibly dangerous, but when it comes to his past, Bucky would put himself through anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up

**part i**

 

_beep - beep_

_"Slight movement in the patients hand!"_

_beep - beep_

_"His eyes are flickering!"_

_"C'mon Bucky, c'mon......."_

Pain burts through his lungs as he gulped for air. Tubes ran through his mouth, causing him to gag. His long hair was plastered to his face by sweat, and tears trickled down his cheeks. A small man with huge glasses stood on one side of him, and on the other, a tall concerned looking man.

"Just stay calm, Mr Barnes, you will be okay," the smaller man said, with a strong German accent. "Unfortunately we had to remove your arm and replace it."

He tries to breathe, but more pain ripped through his body. "Stay calm, sir. If you can control yourself the pain will be reduced." 

"Are you okay, Bucky?" The other man said for the first time. He had a deep voice, full of concern. He looked at the man with confusion, not recognising his blurry face. "It's me, Buck. It's Sam, Sam Wilson?" 

"Sir, if you could please leave the room?" The doctor said, pressing buttons on the machine that was keeping him alive. 

"I'm not leaving him," Sam said, muttering under his breath and running his hands through his short hair. "I'm so sorry, Bucky. I'm so damn sorry." 

He tried to speak, but the tube in his mouth prevented him from making any recognisable noises. 

"His heart rate is slowing to normal, breathing looks more comfortable. I think we can remove some of these," Doc said, taking the tube out. He breathed in a deep breath, the pain decreasing slowly as he gets used to it. 

"Bucky, are you okay?"Sam asked.

He looked over at Sam, icy blue eyes full of anger and pain. "Who the hell is Bucky?"

Doctors and nurses eventually trickled out of the room, leaving just Bucky and Sam sitting in the small, uncomfortable looking chair in the corner. 

Pushing himself up from the chair, Sam slowly walked over to the side of Bucky's bed. Deep, piercing eyes followed him as he did so. "So, Bucky. How are you feeling?" Sam asked cautiously. The Doctor had said to take care when talking to him.

"What happened to me?" 

"You were in a biking accident. And-" Sam caught himself. If Bucky knew everything that had happened to him, he could get very angry very quickly. Best to leave him not knowing all the details right away. "It wasn't good, we got you here just in time. Your arm was broken beyond repair so they replaced it with 'Dr Zola's Limb Replacements'. The surgery went okay, but the hospital decided that they weren't as good and useful as they seemed. I'm sorry, Buck."

For the first time, sadness crept onto Bucky's face. He looked down at his metal arm.  Moving each finger slowly, he still felt them move. "Tell me about my life. Who am I?"

"Well, your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but everyone just calls you Bucky..." 

\- - - - -

After a couple of days, Bucky was admitted leave from the hospital. Sam had stayed with him for most of the time, only going home to change his clothes and grab some food, because as he said, 'hospital food tastes like dirt'.

"You ready to go?" Sam asked, standing in the doorway of the room, swinging his car keys round his finger. Bucky wore a black t-shirt and sweats, with a large hoodie covering his arm. Shoving his hands into his pockets, so there was no sign that there was anything different about him, he looked up at Sam and nodded. "Let's get going then."

Sam slung his arm around Bucky's shoulders as he led him down to reception. He flinched at first but eventually relaxed. "So, you want to come back to my place or just head straight to yours?" 

"Back to mine," Bucky said bluntly. Though he was trying to hide it, he was exhausted. 

"Your place it is then, if you don't mind, Nat and I went round the other day and cleaned it up a bit. There was no room to move it was so full of paintings!" Sam laughed. Bucky had found out so much about himself in the last couple of days. Natasha Romanov is a self-defence instructor, who "you don't want to bump into in the middle of the night in a dark alley" Sam had said. She was pretty much Bucky's only other friend outside of Sam. For a job, Bucky was a painter. He painted New York from the roof of his apartment.

After a short drive through lower Manhattan, they arrived at a small block. Sam pulled to a stop and hopped out of the car, grabbing Bucky's things from the back and heading into the building, Bucky following close behind. "It might take a while to settle back down, but if you need anything just call me," Sam explained as they walked up the stairs. They arrived at the end of the corridor, and Sam twisted the key in the lock. Bucky peered into the [a](http://heroeswiki.com/images/thumb/6/6a/Isaac's_loft.jpg/250px-Isaac's_loft.jpg)partment, which was one large room, with a small kitchen unit to one side, with a door leading into a bathroom, and a bed on the other. The centre of the room was on a lower level, with canvases, some empty and some full, covering every wall. There was a large door at the back, that led to the roof. 

"Home sweet home," Bucky muttered to himself, as he looked around. "I'll be alright now Sam, you can go."

Sam nodded reassuringly at him. "You need anything, and I mean  _anything,_ you call me, you hear me?" 

Bucky chuckled softly for the first time since he'd woken up. "Loud and clear." Sam waved as he shut the door, and Bucky listened to the silence of his apartment, the only sound the wind blowing against the window. Hopping down into the lower section, Bucky began examining some of his paintings, looking for any other things about his past that he didn't know. Sam hadn't told him anything about his family, and looking around, there didn't appear to be any pictures of them. Or paintings for that matter. After looking closely at each one, Bucky turned to look at his bed. Instead of a door to a bedroom, he had just hung cloth over his bed, covering it from the rest of the room. He walked over, and lay down, shutting his eyes and watching the swirling patterns appear on his eyelids. 

One moment of recklessness from him has now affected his entire life. He can't remember anything beyond waking up to the doctor and Sam, the only person that he'd actually talked to in the last three days. As far as he knew, his life started three days ago. 

The edge of one canvas stuck out from behind the bed, obviously hidden and more important from the rest. Bucky pulled it out from it's hiding plac and turned the canvas to see a man, with blond hair and bright green eyes, a huge smile on his face, obviously laughing at something that someone had said, maybe that  _he_ had said. As hard as Bucky looked at the picture, he couldn't remember anything about this man. But there must've been something special about him as it was hidden, and closer to Bucky than any of the other paintings he'd done. 

He placed the picture back where he'd found it and lay down, staring up at the grey ceiling. Surely things would come back to him soon, and as Bucky lay there, he found himself hoping that the man from the painting was out there somewhere, waiting for him. 

 

**part ii**

 

_The apartment was cold, a draft whisked through the large room through the door to the roof, making Bucky's hair fly out behind his head softly. 'I feel like I'm in a modelling shoot,' he joked, causing the other man in the room to laugh, the sound filling Bucky with joy and his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky couldn't see the other man, but he soon came out from around a large canvas._

_'How long am I going to sit here for?' he said, his mouth twisting down in the corners in a fake pout._

_'As long as it takes me to make you look beautiful,' Bucky replied, smirking at the man as he walked over to him and shoved him onto a stool._

_'So no time at all then,' the man replied, pouting and fluttering his eyelashes, making Bucky giggle like a school girl. 'Get on with it then!'_

_Bucky saluted and turned to his easel, plotting out his features. Turning back to the man, he looked at his soft green eyes, so full of understanding and compassion, down the curve of his face to his red lips and smile. He couldn't help but smile himself at the man that sat before him._

_'Oi! What are you looking at?' the man leered, sticking his tongue out at Bucky_

_'Sorry,' Bucky mumbled, before turning back to his painting. The paintbrush gliding, the image slowly emerging from the canvas as Bucky's eyes crinkled with concentration. The man_ _started humming an old song, 'I Only Have Eyes For You' by The Flamingos, his foot tapping on the leg of the stool. Bucky placed the paintbrush to the side and sighed, it was finished._

_'Done!' he said happily. The man grinned and leaped up from the stool, running behind Bucky and looping his arms around his hips and pulling their bodies together._

_'Wow, it's amazing Buck,' he said as he nuzzled his face into Bucky's neck. 'You have one heck of a model.' They both laughed as Bucky turned and wrestled him to the ground, before they both stopped. Bucky looked into his eyes and smiled, before closing the space between them and pressing his lips to the blonds. He suppressed a moan when the man pushed him off, chuckling and leaping up._

_'C'mon you sucker, let's go get some food,' the man said._

Bucky woke, his breaths sharp and fast, the only sound in the silent, and freezing, apartment. He realised he'd fallen asleep in his clothes from the previous night. He glanced at the luminous numbers of the clock and saw it was 6.45am, thinking there was no point in trying to sleep again and swung his legs out of the bed. Undoubtedly, the man from his dream was the man in the painting, and they are in some kind of relationship. Or they  _were_ _._ He shook his hair out of his face and walked over to the kitchen to examine the contents of his fridge. As he'd expected, nothing but an almost empty carton of milk and some definitely out of date cheese. 

On the counter next to the oven sat a wallet, and glancing inside, there looked to be enough for some bread and butter. Pulling on some clean jeans and a t-shirt, as well as a hoodie so people wouldn't think he was some kind of cyborg. Which in a way, he probably was. 

Pulling the door shut behind him as he left, he thought back to his dream. The painting he had done was not the same as the one behind his bed, but hadn't been in his apartment when he looked for it. Maybe he'd sold it, or the man, wherever he was now, had taken it with him.

But that led on to Bucky thinking about where the man could be? The dream certainly made it look like they had lived together, but there wasn't even a trace that the man had existed in the apartment, other than that one painting. Maybe it was just that, a dream and nothing else. But something about it made Bucky think back, and think that maybe such a thing did happen to him. He could feel the man's lips against his, feel his green eyes staring deep into his, and feel his soft touch when they brushed against each other. Sam hadn't mentioned him though, and Bucky trusted Sam more than anyone.

Not that he had anyone to trust more than Sam. 

By this time, he had already arrived at the newsagents, which had only just opened. Grabbing some bread, butter and milk, he walked up to the counter where a particularly grouchy looking woman glared at him as if it were his fault she'd decided to open the shop. 

The bell dinged as he left, a plastic bag swinging from his metal arm. It was two early for anyone to see, he'd decided, so he'd removed his hand from his pocket. He'd almost become used to the sensation of the cool metal wherer it was attatched to his torso, but it still felt alien to him. Just before he turned into his street, a man in sweats and a tight white t-shirt jogged past him, his feet making no sound when they came into compact with the ground. Bucky's eyes followed him for a while, before the man turned. To his shock, it was the man from his dream.

"Hey, hey wait!" he yelled, dropping his food and sprinting after the man. Up ahead, the man turned a corner at lightning speed, and when Bucky came up to it, there wasn't a trace of the man. Bucky gripped his stomach from the little exercise he'd had as he walked back to his groceries and continued the walk back to his house. 

 


	2. Hello?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets the rest of the group, and he knows now that they're all trying to hide something from him.

Lord I don't know which way I'm going,  
Which way the river going to flow,  
It just seems, that upstream, I'm still rowing,  
Still got such a long way to go

* * *

 

 

**part i**

 

Bucky slumped into the sofa, one of the only pieces of furniture in the entire apartment, staring at the room around him. The city was slowly waking up, people began bustling all around, but Bucky remained stationary in the seat, simply thinking. 

So, the man existed, Bucky had seen him clearly, with his own eyes. But why wouldn't he want to speak to him, why would he just run? They'd seemed pretty in love in Bucky's dream.

Love, something so foreign, so alien to Bucky, yet something he yearned for with all his being. And not with anyone, not to fill the lust he craved, but with the man, the anonymous man that he knew nothing about, but was so deeply in love with.  _In_  love, as if he were deep in an ocean. The realisation made Bucky giddy, and fill not just his face, but whole body with a smile, a happiness that he hadn't felt since his awakening. All he needed was to find the man again, and they could live as he had seen them in his dream. No, not a dream, a memory. 

Turning to the small table next to his largest easel, he saw a small CD player, along with a bunch of CD's in a messy pile. Bucky hadn't heard music since he'd woken up, so the thought he could fill his apartment with it made him smile even more. Grabbing the first CD, and quickly shoving it into the player, the music began to ring through the room, bouncing off the walls. 

 __[I](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTFBJgnNgU4)stole the key,  
Took a car downtown where the lost boys meet,  
Took a car downtown and took what they offered me,

 _To set me free,_  
Saw the lights go down at the end of the scene,  
Saw the lights go down and standing in front of me, 

Bucky found himself dancing around, his hair flying out around him. The music made him feel happier still.

Glancing at a blank canvas, he shoved it up against the easel, grabbing a paintbrush and some old paints, and began. His imagination flowed through him and out onto the canvas, as it slowly filled with colour. The song came to an end, as did the painting. A splash of colour among the bleak grey walls of his apartment. He hung the painting above his bed when a [s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f3hzOqOZNRI)ofter song came on. Bucky stared around at the apartment, his head turning to the roof-door. Curiosity filled him, he hadn't been outside yet, as he trudged over to the door. Peering down at the handle, he saw a tiny engraving of two letters, 'B+S'. S? So the mystery love of Bucky's life had a name beginning with S? Bucky cast the thought aside for the minute, and pushed the door open.

The wind hit him immediately, whipping his hair behind him and into his face. Blinking, he fumbled his way to the edge of the roof and peered over. He recoiled quickly, the street below him was much further away than he would have liked. For some reason, he had a fear of falling, unable to grasp onto anything that could save him, just a rush as you plummet to the ground and then nothing. 

Bucky turned and ambled back inside, closing the door slowly behind him. He'd only been awake for about an hour, and was already bored. What would he spend his time doing before the accident and the waking? Painting, he guessed, but the thought of doing it all day alone made Bucky shiver. 

There was a sharp knock on the door, which could still be heard over the CD blaring out 'Coldplay', a band Bucky had decided he liked. Hitting pause on the system, he grabbed his hoodie and opened the door. 

The face behind was similar yet not one he had seen in the last couple of days. Bright red hair, straight and down to her shoulders. Sharp eyes and a smirk plastered on her face. This must be Nat. 

"Bucky! Long time no see. Well actually it's been a few days but for you it must seem like much longer," she said, smiling up at him as she threw an arm round his shoulders. He faltered, not knowing how to react to this stranger hugging him. He supposed she wasn't really a stranger, but a friend. A friend he'd never met and didn't know anything about but her name. "How are you doing?" she asked after drawing back from the hug. 

"I- um- I suppose I'm doing good," he mumbled, closing the door and following her down to the sofa. She sunk into it, but still sat poised with her legs crossed and arms placed firmly in her lap. She was extremely beautiful, and Bucky knew that he would probably be interested in her if he didn't know about  _S_. 

"Wow, not much of a talker now, are we?" She laughed, gesturing to the space next to her, which he sat down in, slightly rigid and uncomfortable. "Listen, I know this is probably hard for you. I mean, you practically have no idea who I am. But we were close, Buck, you can trust me on that," She said, smiling at him sympathetically and placing a comforting hand on his 'normal' shoulder. His lips twitched upwards slightly and he nodded.

"It's all so strange, I mean, I know you but I don't know you. It's hard, I just know there's so much that I'm missing out on that I don't remember," he replied. He glanced at the door handle before him, with the letters engraved into them, and wondered about asking Nat about them, or the painting shoved down the side of his bed. 

"You have any questions about the old you, just shoot," she smiled, almost as though she'd read his mind. He closed his eyes and thought, Sam and Nat were trying to hide this 'S' from his life, they hadn't told him anything about the man. But Bucky was almost certain that he had existed. 

"Actually, there is one thing," he said, looking up, straight into Nat's eyes. "Did I have any other friends besides you and Sam?" 

Bucky'd decided that that was the easiest way to phrase it without flagging the man up directly, they must be hiding him for a reason. "Sure! There's my boyfriend Clint, ol'Bruce, you remember him? And of course the one and only Tony Stark, don't want to leave him out. They all want to see you," she explained. 

"Was that all?" He asked, peering back at the door-handle. None of the names had started with S. 

"They not good enough for you, Buck?" She laughed, punching him in the shoulder. 

Which was a big mistake. 

A loud clang rang through the room, followed by an eerie silence as Bucky rose from the sofa. Nat touching his arm had made him a deep angry, he could feel the anger swelling inside him. "Buck, I'm so sorry. I forgot, listen to me, it's fine-" 

She continued to try and soothe him, as his pulse quickened and his breathing got louder and louder. His fist clenched, which produced a horrible creaking sound as the metal scratched together. 

_Bucky! Bucky calm down, everything is going to be okay. Just listen to my voice, listen to my voice, Buck._

A soft voice called at Bucky from inside his head, not Nat's but the man, the man from his dream. He felt calm surge through his body, quenching the anger and slowing his heart rate down, as he dropped onto his knees.

_That's right, it'll all be okay. Just another of one of your angry episodes, huh? It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going to leave you._

Bucky felt a sob well up in his chest, but he clenched his jaw tightly, not wanting Nat to see him like this. 

"Buck, are you okay?" she whispered, slowly walking over to him and kneeling next to him. "I'm so sorry, Buck, I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, careful not to touch the arm again, and rocked him back and forth as he cried.

 

**part ii - natasha romanov**

 

Somehow, and even the God's don't know how she pulled  _this_ one off, Nat had managed to get Bucky to promise to go out with her and the gang tonight. After another one of his episodes, she'd been scared out of her mind. He'd apologised and promised to try not to let it happen again, and she'd nodded along and played the 'tough girl' card again.

The elevator dinged as the doors crept open, Nat strode out and up to her car. Clint sat in shotgun, his feet crossed up on the dashboard. "So, how's the cyborg?" he laughed.

She turned to him with a stony glare, before looking into the rear-view mirror and swerving out of the park. "I managed to come out with us tonight, but Clint, seriously, no cyborg or mandroid jokes, don't even mention the arm or I swear to God, he'll tear us all to pieces in seconds." 

Clint whistled, grabbing a packet of gum from his pocket and popping a piece into his mouth. "Want one?" he said between chews, but Natasha shook her head, tapping her fingers nervously on the wheel.

"You okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm just worried about Bucky. I mean, he has no idea what happened to him," Natasha said, letting her mask slip for a minute. "He has no clue about his life before." 

"And that means S-" Natasha raised her palm to Clint's face before he could even finish saying  _his_ name. 

"Don't even go there," she snarled before swerving down Sam's drive. "Looks like Tony's here too," she laughed, pointing down at the Ferrari that was parked in front of them. 

"Oh joy, that means Bruce'll also be there," they both jumped out of their Jeep, before walking over to the house and letting themselves in. Sam, Bruce and Tony sat around Sam's table. 

Tony looked up at Nat and winked, beckoning her over. "Miss me?" he teased, blowing her a kiss and laughing at his own  _ridiculously hilarious_ joke. 

"Don't know how I slept at night, Stark," she joked before seating herself next to Sam. Peering around at her friends, you'd think it was just a normal day, that nothing as horrible as what happened to them all had happened. "Bucky's on the mend. Almost."

"That's good news," said Bruce. Trust Bruce to be the one who was worried, the one who cared the most despite his unbelievable anger issues. 

"Yes, and he's agreed to meet us all tonight, probably down at the bar on the corner of his block so he doesn't have to go too far. But I have to set some rules because I don't want him blowing up on us," she said, staring at each of the men in turn. "Right then, so no mentioning the arm. Don't you even think about mentioning his arm or his hoodie or anything to do with robots. Just steer clear away from that subject, got it?" After each man had nodded and hummed in agreement, she continued. "I think it's best if we just don't mention his past. Even if he asks questions about it, just don't say anything. it's probably best if he remembers everything naturally and alone. And finally, now this is most important. If any of you even mention  _him,_  then I will personally rip your eyes out of your sockets and spoon-fed them to you. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Stark nodded, his smile joking but his eyes full of understanding. 

"He's like a bomb. The most fragile bomb you could think of, and he could go off any second, taking all of us out. So treat him with care, but treat him like a human," 

 

**part iii - bucky**

 

_"Don't worry about it, it's going to be fine!"_

_"How do you know that, Steve? What if they don't buy them, we'll be living on nothing!"_

_Steve huffed, his large shoulders heaving as he ambled over to Bucky, who was lying with his eyes pinched shut on the sofa. Kneeling down beside him, he grabbed Bucky's hand in his and started rubbing their thumbs together. "Bucky, your paintings are beautiful. Who wouldn't want to buy them?"_

_Despite Steve's soothing voice, Bucky could feel his heart rate rise, and his face becoming warmer with anger._

_"Stop lying, you know they're rubbish,"_

_"Bucky just calm down, calm down and listen to my voice. That's right, just listen to me, I'm never going to leave you. I'm right here, right here," Steve hummed, pulling Bucky in for a hug as his heart slowed to normal. "If that happens, which it won't, we have friends we can rely on. Right? Everything's going to be okay."_

"Oi, Bucky! You're late, man. What's happening?" 

Bucky woke with a start, staring around at his apartment, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Flicking on the light switch by his head, he stared at the clock, realising he was supposed to meet with the others half an hour ago. Sam continued to knock at the door. 

"Coming, Sam. Gimme a second," Bucky called back, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and his hoodie, which had become his sort of shield. Grabbing his keys, he pulled the door open and smiled weakly at Sam. "Let's go."

"Were you asleep or summin'?" Sam laughed, prodding at his normal arm. "Everyone was waiting for you!"

Bucky hummed a small apology before they reached the elevator, the doors closing behind them as they were whisked downstairs. "Which pub're we going to?" he mumbled. 

"Just the one round the corner, it's pretty nice in there," Sam said, tapping his foot as the lift descended, before arriving at the bottom. They walked out, but Sam grabbed his arm before they left the building. "Listen, man. If at any point, you want to get out of there and leave, you just go. Don't even need to explain yourself, just leave and I'll call you later or something. Okay?" 

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky said, grateful he had someone so reliable to help him through this. "Alright, let's do this." 

\- - - - -

The group were sitting in the booth in the corner, smiling and joking. The faces all looked familiar to Bucky. Nat leaped up when she saw him arrive and strode over, swinging her arm around his neck and guiding him over to the booth. "Bucky, this is Bruce, Clint and Tony," she said, pointing at each man, who all greeted him with a smile. 

"How're you feeling?" the man Nat had called Bruce asked. 

"Good, I guess," Bucky shrugged sliding in next to Nat. They all stared at him expectantly, but he had nothing more to say. "Yeah, that's it..."

Tony smiled. "Nice, detailed report from Bucky," Tony leered, causing the table to laugh, and even Bucky had a slight smile on his face. "So then, before you arrive we were just talking about the new waitress. She seems nice, and not a bad smile. What d'you say?" Tony asked, eyebrows wiggling as he pointed at a tall, slim girl with brown hair, swerving between tables and grabbing glasses as she went. 

"She seems, nice?" Bucky said, before his eyes caught with someone at the far table. Green eyes, even noticeable in the dim,  pub light. Bucky gulped, trying to restrain himself from walking over immediately. After he'd torn his eyes away, he turned back around to five concerned faces.

"You alright there, Buck?" Clint asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"Yeah, I just got distracted, it's nothing." he smiled and raised his drink to his mouth, smiling. "So, let's catch up on some TV shows..."

All six of them began laughing and joking, debating which TV chat show was the best. Tony was an Ellen kinda guy, but for Sam, it was Oprah all the way. Nat backed Sam, so Clint backed Sam. And Bruce backed Tony, so the decision came down, to Bucky. 

"C'mon Buck, this is the most important decision you'll ever make in your life," Tony said, nodding up and down slowly. 

Bucky laughed, staring at all five of them as they tried to beckon them to their respective teams. "I don't even know who you're talking about," he laughed, which caused them all to laugh again. In the corner of his eye, Bucky saw the man get up and leave, no one even noticed he'd gone. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. "Sam, I have to go. I'm sorry, guys. It's been nice seeing you but.." Bucky simply trailed off, dunking his drink back on the table and sprinting out the door. 

"Hey!" Bucky yelled, following the man as he strode confidently towards the park in front of the pub. "Stop walking so damn fast will you?" The street was dark, no one around except the drunk men chanting some stupid song outside the pub, and of course,  Steve. 

Steve looked back and stopped walking, turning to face Bucky. Bucky stopped too, the distance between them was agonising. "Who are you?" he asked. Stupid, he thought, hitting himself. He knew who the man was, he just couldn't string a damn sentence together, not when he was right there. 

The man didn't talk, didn't even move. Just stared at Bucky, with his green eyes. 

Bucky sighed, glancing down at his feet before up at the man again. "Why won't you talk to me?" he asked. The man just shook his head slowly, before turning and sprinting again, and hell the man was fast. Bucky tried to keep up with him, but yet again, he turned a corner into an old alley, and when Bucky caught up, there was no trace of him at all. 

Yelling out in anguish, Bucky punched at the brick wall next to him, and specks of cement and brick flew away from the wall, leaving a small crater where his fist had come into contact with it. Bucky managed to slow his breathing before it turned into something worse, and just placed his forehead on the wall, closing his eyes and counting to 10 with each breath. 

Who the hell was this guy? And what could Bucky possibly have done to make him so angry, so hurt. Was it before the accident? So many questions swirled around Bucky's head, and the only one who could answer them is the man who runs whenever he sees him. 

When he'd regained his composure, he turned and started to walk back to his block, hands placed firmly in his pockets and his hood up over his head. The cool air whipped around him, sending soft chills through his body as he traipsed back to his apartment. Finally arriving at the door, he pushed the key in, and walked in. He'd decided he liked this room more than anywhere else he'd been in the past 4 days. Flicking on the light, a small piece of paper lay on the floor, words scrawled messily, and obviously in a hurry, followed by a number. 

_Bucky, call me. I can't talk to you in person but this I can do._

Bucky reached for his phone so fast, slamming the door behind him with his foot, and began to dial the number. Mumbling to himself, the line connected, and he heard breathing down the end of the line. 

"Hello?"

 


	3. Friends since 1989

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lies just keep on piling in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys i had a small disaster with my laptop and lost this chapter, so sorry it's not up to its full standards. it's also not finished yet, the rest of the chapter i'll do tomorrow, but I wanted to upload something every day. i've got it all planned out now, the ending and all, so keep your guesses coming in on where steve is and why he won't met with bucky?
> 
> i also have another fic that i'm working on, so if there's less progress on here, that's why. but don't worry, i won't forget it!

_if you're in love than you're a lucky one,_   
_because most of us are bitter over someone,_   
_setting fire to our insides for fun,_   
_to distract our hearts from ever missing them,_   
_but i'm forever missing him,_

 

* * *

 

**part i - bucky**

 

 

The wait was agonising. Bucky sat for minutes, simply listening to Steve breath down the phone. 

"Bucky?" the man finally said. Holy hell, it was him. It was his voice, his soft soothing voice. The voice that was the only thing that could calm Bucky down when he felt anger surge though his body as hot as fire. 

"Yeah, Steve. It's me," Bucky exhaled, with a light laugh. He couldn't believe he was talking to him. God, why did he have to sound like a teenage girl talking to her crush over the phone? "I'm so confused, I mean, I remember you, but I don't remember you and I just want to know everything."

Steve chuckled down the phone, the sound sent flutters in Bucky's chest which he tried to ignore. The muscles in his chest relaxed, his shoulders were no longer tense, everything seemed okay for the moment. "Yeah I know, Buck. Let's talk about us."

The fact that there was an  _us_ made Bucky smile from ear to ear, a sensation that was entirely knew to him. But it was a good one. 

"D'you find the painting behind the bed?" Steve asked. At the mentioning of said painting, Bucky turned to look at it, the corner of its wooden frame poking out from behind the bed. 

"Yeah, I painted it, of you," Bucky wanted to punch himself, he sounded so dumb. "I mean, yeah I found the painting."

Steve laughed again, "Well, I remember that day so clearly. We walked down to the park, it was lovely and sunny, with a canvas and some paints. You kept saying things to make me laugh, I remember laughing so much that my stomach hurt. You said I looked so handsome, you just  _had_ to capture the moment. So you started painting. I loved watching you paint. Your eyes went all crinkly in the corners, concentrating so hard. But what was best was the look on your face when you'd finished. The pure pride, I never saw you look happier than when you'd finished a painting, that one especially. You said it was your favourite. I napped while you were painting, but was still asleep when you'd finished, so you painted cat whiskers on my face. Didn't even notice until we got back to the apartment and I saw myself in the mirror. Man, you were going to pay for that."

Bucky laughed down the line, but frowned. He thought hard, but still couldn't recall. "I'm sorry, Steve. I don't remember. But I do remember me painting you while you hummed that old [F](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvzNeh4Mq1o)lamingos song, and you calming me down when I was getting stressed over my paintings. I don't know how you do it Steve, you're the only person that can."

"Well, what can I say," Steve laughed. There was a silence between them, not an awkward, eerie silence but a good, content silence. "Listen, Buck. I love talking to you, and I don't mind doing so if it's simply this. But I can't answer your questions, not yet anyway."

"But, Steve no one else will. They're all lying to me, and you're the only one I trust!" Bucky said, feeling the frustration begin to flow through him again. 

"I know Bucky, it all seems so unfair. I wish I could tell you all of it, but you don't understand, not yet. I want you to be happy, so I have to go, for now," with that, the line went dead. Bucky used all his strength not to crush the phone between his fingers, which he knew he was perfectly capable of doing. Instead, he placed the cool metal of the phone to his forehead and tucked his knees under his chin. Steve's voice didn't come to him this time, so he just continued counting to 10 in his head, breathing slowly and calmly until he felt okay again. 

The phone vibrated again, and he picked it up in a rush. "Thank god, listen, I was going to say-"

"Not sure if God is a stretch too far," Sam laughed down the phone. "What were you saying?"

Bucky inhaled sharply, before rubbing his fingertips over his eyebrows. "Er, just that I'm sorry about earlier. That I stormed out so fast, I hardly even said goodbye, let alone explained myself."

"Don't worry about it, Buck. I said you could go, remember? I understand, the guys can kinda drain your energy sometimes, just checkin' up on you, is all," Sam explained, voices yelling in the background. He was obviously still at the pub. 

"Sam, did I know a man called Steve?" Bucky blurted out, raising a hand to his mouth too late as the words were already carried down the phone. "By which I mean that I've been having memories, and I just hear his name.." Bucky mumbled, trailing off at the end of his sentence. 

"Yeah, actually. You were together for a hell of a long time. Best friends since you were babies, glued to the hip. Everyone knew you'd end up together one day, but it took you two the longest to realise it. Man, you were the perfect couple, never seen you happier in your life. Then one day, the two of you had a fight. Something small, and unimportant. You never told us why, but he just picked up his stuff and left. Didn't leave a word of warning. Go figure," Sam talked slowly, carefully thinking over every word he spoke so as not to upset Bucky. "This was weeks before your accident Bucky, we don't know where he is now. We didn't know him that well."

"Right, thanks Sam," Bucky shut off the call before Sam could say another word. Well, Bucky physically  _couldn't_ say another word. This man he love so much had left him, over nothing? No, he didn't know why. But Bucky was angry, angry at Nat and Sam for not telling him about Steve, angry at  _Steve_ for refusing to tell him the truth, but more than anyone angry at himself for causing any of this to happen anyway.

As of right now, Bucky needed a distraction, something to take his mind off things. Glancing over to the huge book case in the corner that he hadn't paid any attention to in the last two days, he hobbled over and looked at the books. Most seemed to be something to do with art, many different artists and books full of paintings. There were some sketch books, and one book that was much smaller and much more torn apart than the rest.

_"C'mon! You promised me you'd read it ages ago," Steve cooed, pulling at Bucky's arm and placing the book in his hand. "I'm telling you you're going to cry."_

_"Oh please, I'm not fourteen, I don't cry every time I finish a book that's a little sad," Bucky laughed, turning the old book over in his hands, glancing at the front cover. "The Book Thief? Sounds fun."_

_"Alright tough guy, you let me know what you think when you've finished."_

Bucky snapped back into reality, staring at the torn-up cover of the book, though the title was still easily readable. Bucky wondered whether he'd gotten the chance to finish the book before their argument, and whether he'd cried or not. Turning the crusted pages, a note slipped out of the book, fluttering to the floor and landing by his feet. Leaning down to pick it up, he turned it over to read. _'I told you you'd cry'_ Bucky laughed at the note, placing it back into the book. Regardless of whether he'd finished it or not, he decided to read it anyway, placing it back on the bookshelf and continuing to scan the titles. 

Nothing sparked his interest until he reached the bottom shelf, where a huge leather bound book lay. Bucky pulled it out slowly, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the shelf and the book balanced on his legs. Turning to the first page, he read:

_Bucky and Steve, friends since 1989, together since 2007._

Seeing their names written next to each other made his stomach flutter again, which he tried to ignore as he was a man, not a fourteen year old girl (as he'd said in his memory). On the first page, were three photos. One of two toddlers, one skinny, bony and blond standing in the shadow of a proud-looking boy. This could only be Bucky. They stood in costume, Bucky as Batman and Steve as Robin, their hands planted firmly on their hips as they stared off into the sunset.  The next photo had two teenagers. Steve still stood at 5"4, bones still standing out awkwardly, but his face was exactly the same, smiling up at Bucky, who looked off somewhere behind the camera. He hadn't changed much either, but stood much taller than Steve, with a toned body and short hair, and a smile that could knock someone off their feet. He didn't know where that had gone. 

In the final photo, Steve had shot up, muscles toning his body and hair styled almost to perfection, blue eyes glinting in the sun. He had his arm wrapped around the now slightly,  _slightly_ , smaller man, who gazed up at him in admiration, and something else that Bucky soon recognised as love. This photo was different. In the other two, Bucky looked cocky, proud and full of bravado. In this final one, he looked happy. Like he was living for something, or someone. Steve looked much the same as he always had done. Maybe he'd loved Bucky all along and Bucky was too stupid to notice, which sent a crack straight through his heart. 

He continued turning the pages, stopping to look at each photo in intricate detail, so he wouldn't miss anything. In one photo, they stood in the centre, with Nat, Sam, Clint, Tony and Bruce, all in a line with the arms over each others shoulders. All smiling, not just with their mouths but in their eyes. Another with just Bucky and Nat, and one with Sam and Steve. And, another with Sam and Steve, and another with Sam and Steve.

But, Sam didn't know Steve that well. Bucky's brain jammed, thinking back to the phone conversation. Pulling the final few photos out of the album and turning them carefully in his hand, he saw the dates. 24.04.14. Holy hell, that was the night before his accident. But, Steve had left weeks before, or so Sam had said. Someone was lying to him.

And Bucky had no idea who to believe. 

 

  **part ii - bruce**

 

Sam lolled back over to the table, sliding in next to Nat as Tony and Clint downed another couple of shots. Bruce sat in the corner, looking up out of the window and clicking his knuckles as he often did when he was angry. "He okay?" Nat whispered, nudging Sam in the shoulder as subtly as she could, but not subtle enough for Bruce not to notice. You'd think they would have noticed by now that all their sneaking around was easily noticable and though they thought they were. They weren't hiding anything from Bruce. Bruce, who was a scientist and was used to analysing situations to every last detail and could spot a lie from a million miles away

"Yeah, I think so. He seems alright, don't know what shook him up so bad though," Sam raised a hand to his face, rubbing his chin and lowering it again slowly. "Nat, he asked about Steve. I think he's remembering him."

Nat sat up sharply, bumping Clint, who splashed his drink onto Tony opposite him. "Hey, whatsthatfor?" Tony slurred, giggling to himself and hiccuping as he glanced down at the stain on his t-shirt. Clint joined his childish laughter, before turning to see Nat glaring at him. 

"Uh, what did I do?" Clint asked, trying to keep his face serious, which was incredibly difficult with Tony kicking at his shin every three seconds. 

"You two, snap out of it. Bucky's remembering Steve," Nat said.

Bruce swivelled in his seat to face Nat and Sam. "Why is that a bad thing? He should be able to know about Steve, they've been together for the last seven years, and hey let's face it, the last 25 years. I don't understand why you're keeping it from him, he deserves to know."

Tony raised his drink, small drops splashing down the side of the glass."I'll drink to that," he laughed, raising the glass to his lips, before Natasha slapped it away. 

"No, Tony, you won't. This is serious," she ran a hand through her soft, red hair, her other hand tapping against the wood of the table nervously. "Bruce, we want to tell him. We  _really_ want to tell him. He was, is, so in love with the man, and Steve loved him too. It's just hard. We know that if Bucky knows the truth, that he'll flip out, and flip out doesn't even begin to describe how upset he would be. When we think he's ready to handle it, we'll tell him. 

"And when was it your authority to do so, Nat?" Bruce demanded. Bruce and Steve had always been close, as had Bruce and Bucky. In fact, Bruce was a close friend to everyone in the group, and defended them often more than he did for himself. "Bucky's a grown man, if he can handle having a damn metal arm he can handle this."

Sam shook his head, turning to look at Bruce as the whole table sat in silence. "Bruce, you don't understand the situa-"

"No, Sam, I understand. If you're talking about Bucky getting so low, so low that he would do  _that,_  I understand better than all of you. Believe me, I've tried. Bucky is not the weak person you think he is, he's strong, and he can handle it. If you don't tell him, then I will." Bruce stood, slamming his hand on the table when he'd finished his little speech before turning and stalking out of the bar, the cool air hitting his face as he left. Even he didn't know everything that happened, Sam and Nat had refused to tell them the details, saying they'd know soon enough, but that telling Bucky was not an option. 

Bruce only ever wanted three things from life. Fairness, equality and peace. Unfortunately for him, he lacked all three. Especially the latter. The wind rushed around him, slowly picking up through the weeks as winter began to engulf the autumn, so he tugged his coat further around his body and walked. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going, but often walking aimlessly was the only way to calm himself down at times like this. The sky was incredibly clear, an inky black blanket with tiny stars sewn into it's fabric, the moon shining like a pale orb as he shuffled through the park. Calming down, he slowed his pace and began to stroll across the grass, dew already beginning to form on every blade. Not another soul was in sight, the park empty apart from the occasional hum of a cricket or rustle as some woodland creature hopped around in the bush. 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, a white flash as a figure darted round a corner, close enough for Bruce to establish it was, in fact, a person but too far away for him to decipher who it could be. Bruce closed his eyes, and breathing slowly, before quickening his step. The road was coming up closer now, the familiar incessant flicker of the lamp-posts drawing nearer. But there was the white flash again, seemingly closer than it had been the first time. His heartbeat was in his ears, he could almost sense the blood pulsing through his veins as he sped up to a jog, the road drawing nearer and nearer. The next time the ghostly figure darted past, it stopped, just where Bruce's peripheral vision could pick him up.

Bruce turned to him slowly, his mouth dropping open as the man smiled weakly, bowing his head slightly before sprinting off, disappearing into the distance before Bruce could even utter a single word. 

 

* * *

_there is a house built out of stone,_   
_wooden floors, walls and window sills,_   
_tables and chairs worn by all of the dust,_   
_this is the place where i don't feel alone,_   
_this is the place where i feel at home,_


	4. Smiling Widely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took longer than expected, i've been quite busy this week. if you didn't check, i also added a bit more to the previous chapter so read on from that one too!

__ Will you stay with me my love?   
For another day,   
Cause I don't want to be alone,   
When I'm in this state,   
Will you stay with me my love?   
Till we're old and grey,   
I don't wanna be alone,   
When these bones decay.   


* * *

 

 

** part i - bucky  **

 

 

_ The sun shone in through the windows, light leaping from wall to wall, leaving the apartment bright and warm. But for Bucky, the only light was coming from Steve as he slept in the sofa, his mouth half open and legs hanging off the end, up and over the arm rest because of his giant body. He was supposed to be modelling for Bucky, but had fallen asleep, and Bucky had felt too evil to even contemplate thinking about waking Steve up from his slumber. So, he'd left the big lump there, as he continued to paint him. A song played in the background, a soft voice with a guitar being strummed in the background.  _

_ It was days like these that Bucky treasured his life, and each minute that passed.  _

_ When the painting was done, Bucky sat in front of the sofa, leaning his head back so it rested on Steve's stomach, rising and falling with the other man's breathing. Bucky held Steve's hand in his, looking at each fingerprint and nail, every crevice and small wrinkle of skin, taking in every part of the man he loved so much. He felt himself begin to doze off, the heat making his eyes hazy.  _

_ Steve shook him awake a couple of hours later, Bucky's neck aching from leaning on Steve for so long. The sun had disappeared, replaced by bright moonlight, but the warmth had gone with it. Steve was already pulling the fire door shut, shivering as he did so, and looking over at Bucky.  _

_ "What d'you want for dinner?" Steve asked, walking over to the 'kitchen', opening the fridge and scanning the contents, spread sparsely over the shelves. "Not that there's much choice. There's some pasta in the cupboard, I can mix this tomato sauce in?"  Steve pulled some sauce from the fridge, twisting the can off the top before spluttering and throwing the jar straight into the bin. "Or not," he coughed as Bucky laughed at him from the sofa. _

_ "Why don't we go out?" he suggested, sauntering over to Steve and throwing his arms around the bigger man's neck, swaying in time to the music that was only playing in their heads. "It's been years since just the two of us went out for dinner, think about it? I've got that big gallery think coming up, I've got some money saved. I say we go out." _

_ Steve chuckled, and leaned in, stealing a kiss from Bucky's lips before shoving him away. "Alright then, but you're getting changed first. You dribbled all over that t-shirt in your sleep." _

_ \---- _

_ They'd picked a small Italian restaurant near their house, pretty casual but always empty. Steve knew the girl that worked inside, Peggy. She'd had a crush on him since forever, so always offered them the best table and best service, even though Bucky had to put up with the occasional glare of envy. Stepping inside, she hurried over to Steve, threading her arm through his and leading him over to their usual table. Steve peered back at Bucky, who just laughed at the punk, following slowly. The place was filled with delicious smells, wafting in from the kitchen, and lots of happy looking people sharing bowls of spaghetti, twisting the long strands of pasta around their forks, and others struggling to eat a huge piece of pizza.  _

_ Sinking into the seat opposite Steve, Bucky looked up at him as Steve talked to Peggy, ordering their drinks. The lights glinted in his eyes, making them seem even brighter than usual. No matter how hard Steve looked, he could never find a T-shirt that fitted him properly, so his muscles always slightly showed through it's fabric, causing lots of girls to swoon (including Bucky) every time he moved. It's strange, because before he suddenly grew a foot and a half upwards, not to mention the muscles, they could never find a t-shirt that didn't dwarf Steve completely. _

_ One Peggy had left, Steve bumped knees with Bucky under the table, so Bucky bumped back harder. "Oi, you know who'll win this," Steve said, smiling arrogantly.  _

_ "Yeah, alright tough guy," Bucky replied, smiling widely. He couldn't remember ever being so happy in his life. Peggy soon swooped back with their drinks, promising their food would be as fast as they could manage, even though there were people who had been waiting double the time they had. "God, she's obsessed." Bucky laughed, but he did feel sympathy for her. He was always grateful that Steve had chosen him.  _

_ "It's cute," Steve said, his neck flushing and the tips of his ears turning pink. "Sam and everyone are going out tomorrow, it's been a while since we've seen them. Shall we go?" _

_ "Sure," Bucky said, he was hardly even taking in what Steve was saying he was so entranced. _

_ "Stop staring at me, you jerk!" Steve laughed, grabbing Bucky's hand and squeezing it in his.  _

_ Bucky wheezed out slowly. "Sorry, I just can't stop thinking about how lucky I am to have you. I just don't think I could live without you, Steve. Please don't ever leave me," that was the hardest thing Bucky had ever had to say, but the pressure of those words had been weighing him down for some weeks now. Steven Rogers was the reason he was alive, nothing else.  _

_ "Buck, I love you too," Steve said, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled in the corners.  _

For the second time, Bucky's memory was interrupted by sharp knocking at the door, knuckles rapping against the wood quickly. Bucky held the large photo album in his arms, and didn't have time to put it away, so just placed it by his side as he walked over to the door. 

To his suprise, Bruce stood on the other side, hair ruffled either from the wind or from continuously having hands running through it. "Bruce? Isn't it a bit late?" Bucky said, his voice still quiet from having just woken up. 

"Time is irrelevant right now," Bruce said, ushering Bucky to the side as he hurriedly stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him quickly. "I need to talk to you, it's pretty urgent, and about Steve." At the mention of Steve, Bucky snapped out of whatever daze he'd been in and followed Bruce down towards the sofa. Bruce, however, didn't sit, just continued to pace before the seat. Being drowsy from sleep, Bucky sunk into the sofa but looked up at the other man. 

"What about Steve?" Bucky finally said, when the man eventually stopped pacing. 

Bruce ran his hand through his hair proving Bucky's point. "Oh man, I have no idea Bucky. I mean, I thought so many things but, I just don't know how to organise these thoughts." Bruce exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "Listen, I know that Nat and Sam have been lying to you, but they've been lying to us too, namely Tony and I. I'll tell you all that I know, but if you want real answers, you'll have to get them from them."

Bucky sat straight and rigid, anticipating what was to come from the conversation. "As you know, you and Steve were the best of friends. Literally inseperable, I never saw the two of you apart. You can't have one without the other, you know? One of those things. We all knew long before you did that you'd end up together. From the way Steve looked at you, whether you were looking or not, with utter admiration and, well, love. And the way that you would smile at Steve when you were proud of him, no one could ever make you look happy as well as Steve could. Well, on the 24th April, we were all hanging out at Nat's place, just a couple of blocks away. You and Steve were closer than ever, and everyone was happy for you. Then you went home, and you had the accident. Sam found you on your bike, but none of us were there. Steve was nowhere to be found, not near the scene or even at the hospital when you were recovering. As far as we knew, he'd disappeared off the face of the earth. And to this day, I had no idea where he was, until I saw him, in the park. He had deep circles under his eyes, he looked exhausted, and pale. The poor guy, I have no idea why he's doing it."

"Could I have done anything to upset him?" Bucky asked, trying to keep up with the story. This was the first time somebody had been sincere to him, and the first time Bucky was under the impression that someone wasn't lying to him. 

Bruce just shrugged, sitting beside Bucky on the sofa, and placing his hand on Bucky's shoulder, his metal shoulder. But Bucky didn't even flinch, Bruce's touch was gentle and kind, not to intimidate Bucky. "I honestly have no idea, the two of you seemed perfectly happy when you were at Nat's place. What happened between you leaving and the accident is still unknown to me, and possibly to everyone else. The only people that know what happened, are you and Steve." 

Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to stop himself from sobbing in front of his only true friend. "Thank you, for being honest with me Bruce."

Bruce put his arm round Bucky and pulled him into a hug. It was obvious the gesture felt strange to him, but it was comforting for Bucky to have someone, a comfort that wasn't  a memory, that wasn't the past. "I'm just doing what any half-decent person would do." 

The silence was disrupted by Bucky's phone blaring out through the apartment, and he picked it up to see Nat's number on the screen. "Hello?"

"Bucky, hey. I figured you'd probably still be awake. I was just letting you know, you know that cute waitress we saw earlier? Yeah, well I got you a date with her. You are welcome!" she laughed down the phone. 

"Wow, thanks Nat, really. I appreciate that, but I think I'm going to have to-"

"Don't you say it. Don't you even  _think_ about saying it, Bucky. There's no way out of this, so you may as well accept it now," she said sternly. "7o'clock at the pub. Don't you dare be late or I swear..." she never finished her threat as she hung up, leaving Bucky with nothing to do but go on the date. 

"She set me up, with the waitress," Bucky explained, rubbing his fingers over his eyebrows. 

"You don't have to go," Bruce said, his eyes full of understanding as he stood, grabbing his coat from where he'd left it and shrugging it onto his shoulders. "Nat's set all of us up at least once in our lives. However, if you don't go on this one, she'll keep doing it and the dates will slowly get worse."

Bucky groaned, it looked like he was going to have to go. And just when he was beginning to find out more about who he was. "Alright, I suppose I could go. Just this once."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll update this chapter at some point on the week-end. hope you liked it so far!


	5. To Be Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so SO sorry that this has taken so long! i feel really awful about it, and have been meaning to work on this for ages, just haven't found the time. luckily for you, i've had some good ideas for this fanfic, and for fanfics to come in the future! so i hope you enjoy it!

_and i don't want the world to see me,  
_ _'cause i don't think that they'd understand,  
_ _when everything's made to be broken,  
_ _i just want you to know who i am_

* * *

 

 

**part i - sam**

 

"Don't you think it's a step too far?" Sam scratched at his head as he spoke to Natasha, pacing his living room while she sat with Clint on one sofa, with Tony sprawled across an armchair in the corner. "I mean, the guy isn't even into girls! The least you could do is pick a  _guy_ for him to date." Bruce arrived at the door and silently slunk towards his usual seat, far enough away from the others to stay out of the arguments that usually took place.

Natasha huffed before leaping out of her seat and heading to Sam. "Don't question me Sam, you know I'm just trying to do what's best for Bucky. He's coming too close to the truth, and you have no idea what might happen if-"

"Oh stop talking like you're better than all of us, Tasha," Tony moaned, not even opening his eyes or even turning his head in her direction. "If Bucky finds out, he finds out. We'll all support him as the loving friends that we are."

"Yes, we're all such loving friends aren't we, lying and scheming behind his back while he suffers," Bruce said, avoiding the glares that suddenly all flew in his direction. "And really? A date? I didn't think you'd go  _that_ far."

"And not even with a guy, I mean you could have set him up with me," Tony joked.

Sam laughed quietly, whilst Clint replied sternly, "Now's not really the time, Tony." Everyone began to talk over each other, trying to get their point across with various words being shouted louder than the rest, before Bruce finally snapped. 

"I don't think any of you actually understand what he's going through! I mean, did any of you stop in and ask, properly how he was doing and whether he was remembering anything? Or did you automatically try and swerve him into dating and forgetting everything about him that he's already been? It's not fair! He deserves to know. We deserve to know too, Steve was our friend and we ought to know what happened to him, where he's gone, who he's staying with and why. And I think that you know, Tasha, and you Sam. You've been lying to all of us."

"WE haven't lied to you, Bruce, we've just neglected to mention the whole truth," Nat said, straightening her spine so she seemed taller than she really was. "You're right, we haven't been entirely honest, with you or Bucky. It's unfair of me to set him up with this date tonight, but he needs to get back out into the world, and maybe a disastrous date is the best way to do it. But don't assume for a second that we don't care about Bucky, everything we've done, we've done for his benefit."

Tony laughed, before swinging his legs off the armchair and leaning on them as he looked up at Nat and Sam. " Does that include hiding every trace of Steve you could think of from their apartment before he was let go from the hospital? Sorry I didn't tell you Bruce, I made a promise not to but what the hell. Nat asked me to drop her and Sam off at Bucky's apartment the morning before he was dropped there himself, I didn't think anything of it until they came out with bags of Steve's things. They just dropped them all of back here, at Sam's place, but now they're all gone again."

Sam felt a blush creep up his neck, the tips of his ears all warm from embarrassment. "We only did it to help Bucky," he managed to say quietly.

"Let's just keep Bucky out of it for the minute, why don't you tell Bruce and I where Steve is, and we can start from there," Tony said, level-headedly. Nat turned to Sam, who nodded at her slowly.

"Alright, here it is."

 

 

* * *

 

**part ii - bucky**

 

Bucky woke to his phone vibrating right by his face, the sound surprised him so much that he leaped back, banging his head against the wall. He groaned in pain, but chuckled at his own stupidity, before realising he'd missed the call.

The screen lit up when he touched it, and he saw he had 7 missed calls, two from Bruce, two from Nat,  two from Sam and one from Steve. 

He already knew who he was going to call back first. The line rang twice before Steve picked up. 

"Morning, or should I say afternoon," Steve laughed. "To be honest, it's more like early evening." 

"Really? Oh, I kinda just sleep all the time nowadays, I have nothing better to do." 

Their phone call conversations had almost become a regular thing. Steve would call Bucky at the perfect time, like last night it had been as soon as Bruce had left. And they'd talked in the morning too, as soon as Bucky woke up. It was as if Steve knew all the times that would work best, which Bucky suspected he probably did because he knew him so well. 

"What time is your date?" Steve taunted, before laughing. The sound still made the muscles in Bucky's chest tighten and sent an ache all through his body. Glancing down at his watch, he saw he had about half an hour before he was due to meet the girl, called Maria. 

"Seven, she seems nice enough. God, it'll be awkward though, I've had virtually no social interaction these last couple of days. Bar you, but that's over the phone and therefore doesn't really count," Bucky explained. "I have no idea how to act, talk, I don't even know what to wear."

"Just be yourself."

"That is literally the worst advice you could've given to me right now," Bucky rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the freezing floor with a slap as he hobbled over to the fridge. The silence on the phone was comforting, almost as if Steve was in the room and not just on the phone. 

"Why don't you wear the brown leather jacket on the hook behind the door. It used to be mine, but it always looked better on you anyway. And your black jeans, they should be in the cupboard by the bookshelf," Steve said absent-mindedly. 

"God you know my life better than I do," Bucky said, grabbing the leather jacket from the hook. 

_'Just take it, Buck, you know you look so much hotter in it that I do'_

_'I look so much hotter than you anyway, Stevie'_

The jacket even smelt of something familiar and warming, that Bucky slipped it over his bare chest, and hugged it close to his body. Everything about it oozed Steve, so Bucky decided that it was his new favourite thing in the apartment. From the cupboard, he grabbed his jeans and boots, along with a grey t-shirt. It was the smartest outfit he'd worn since he'd come out of hospital, and was almost identical to what he'd worn in his memory. "There's only one more problem. What do I do with my hair?" 

His hair had grown longer and more out of control recently, hanging loosely around his face like a curtain. "I'd probably tie it up, there are rubber bands in the draw. Or a nice pink, fluffy one in the bathroom if you'd prefer," Steve joked. 

"I think I'll go with the rubber bands," Bucky replied, chuckling as he pulled his hair out of his face. "Alright then, I'm ready. Guess now all I have to do is wait." 

His phone buzzed again, a call from Bruce. "Everyone keeps calling me," he said to Steve.  "I don't know what they'd want."

"Ignore them," Steve said abruptly. "They'll probably try and talk you out of going, and to be honest I think getting you back in the world might help you out a bit." 

"You're starting to sound like Tasha," Bucky groaned. "I  _would_ get back in the world if it was with you." The silence that ensued was not as comfortable as the previous silence.

"Bucky, you know I want that too. It's just, difficult to explain it right now. When I want to talk to you about it, I will." and the line went dead.

'Shit' Bucky mumbled under his breath, holding the cool metal of the phone to his lips. Why did he bring it up? Every time he did, he scared Steve away. Patience had never been one of Bucky's strongest traits. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will add a bit more to this chapter so make sure you read it!


	6. Swan Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has his date with Maria and has an incredible night, but the evening ends with him bumping into Steve just as he's on the brink of finding out what happened on the night of the accident. 
> 
> The conclusion that arises is perhaps not the one that Bucky had hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go folks, the penultimate chapter a whole two years after the first was written! Are you proud of me or what, because I am. 
> 
> I'm not going to lie, this chapter is a bit challenging and you may not get it straight away. Here's a hint, pay close attention to the song lyrics, they are actually pretty important to the whole storyline. 
> 
> This is sort of the last chapter but I'll be posting an epilogue either today or tomorrow which will clear up anything that was left out here i.e what happened with the friends etc, so keep your eye out for that one. 
> 
> Thanks again so much for reading!

_the ghosts that we knew_

_will flicker from view_

_and we'll live a lonely life_

* * *

**part i - bucky**

 

 

Bucky didn't even know if he was into girls. 

He looked at the picture Nat had sent him of Maria - she was perfectly pretty with brown hair and a fringe which framed her face, a jawline and cheekbones that could cut a man down and certainly a smile that could win the heart of lots of guys, but Bucky just couldn't muster any sort of attraction towards her. Other that Steve, Bucky hadn't found himself feeling any sort of attraction towards anyone for that matter. 

He couldn't remember anyone besides Steve. 

7o'clock drew nearer with every second. Bucky felt like a nervous teenager, eagerly anticipating their first date. He couldn't help but wonder if that were the real reason he were excited to leave, or the thought that he could see Steve roaming the streets like a lost puppy. The thought brought a smile to his face and he tugged Steve's jacket tighter around his torso. His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket, reading the screen. 

 _Hey Buck, it's Bruce.  
_ _We need to talk asap. Let me know when your date is finished, I can pick you up._  
This is urgent i.e it's about Steve. 

Bucky read through the text a couple of times. Bruce was a pretty serious guy, but this sounded important. Maybe he ought to cancel the date completely, talk to Bruce straight away. He nodded, starting to craft a reply when he got another text, from an unknown number. 

 _Hi! It's Maria._  
I know I'm early, but I got off work so I'm already at the pub!   
Any chance you could get here a bit sooner? 

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. He was desperate to know whatever Bruce knew about Steve, but he wasn't heartless. He couldn't stand the poor girl up now. He sent her a reply, telling her he was on his way, and then another to Bruce, telling him that he'd meet him back at his place at 10.00. Only three and a half hours and then he would know the truth. He could handle that. He'd already waited this long. 

As Bucky walked through the warm May air, he couldn't help but have a smile on his face. He was going to find out where Steve was, maybe get to see him again and fix all their problems and get back together with him. Sam and Nat would apologise but Bucky would tell them not to worry, pulling them into a hug and they would all be friends again. All of them - Steve included - would have dinner at the bar, or maybe at their apartment, and they'd tell anecdotes until Bucky knew everything about his past life. He couldn't wait. The thought of seeing Steve again sent shivers through him despite the summer air. 

Arriving at the bar, he was hit by the smell of booze and sound of laughter as he walked over the threshold. Maria sat at a booth in the corner, waving over at him and gesturing. He smiled in return, walking over to her and sliding onto the seat opposite. "Hi Maria, I'm Bucky," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. 

"How very formal of you, Bucky," she laughed, shaking his hand in return. "I ordered a drink, do you want me to get you something?"

"Oh no, don't worry, I can order," he responded. "I was thinking about getting some nachos." 

"Ah, I'm one step ahead of you, I'm afraid," she laughed as a server came over with a plate of nachos in his hands. "Nacho eating challenge?" 

Bucky grinned. "You're on." 

 

* * *

 

 

The night flew past and Bucky forgot everything about Steve, about his accident, about the lies as he was having such a great time with Maria. It didn't feel like a date. It felt, for the first time since he'd woken up, like he was spending time with a genuine friend, without having all the messy chat about him and his arm - speaking of, Maria hadn't even flinched when Bucky removed his jacket. 

Bucky was having so much fun that he didn't care about all the looks he was getting. A boy even walked past and called him a robot and he just laughed and did a robot dance. Maybe the arm wasn't so bad after all. 

"Well, my friend, I don't know about you, but I have eaten all the nachos a woman can eat, drunk as much as is acceptable on a Thursday night AND danced all my strife away, so I would say that as dates go, this was...acceptable..?" 

"Acceptable?" Bucky gasped, mock indignation, "I gave you the time of your life tonight and all you're giving me is 'acceptable'?! I'm heartbroken!" 

The two of them giggled as they made their way out of the pub, laughing at the stupidest things as the cool night air hit them. "Shit, I've got work tomorrow," Maria groaned as she looked at her watch. "My boss'll kill me if she finds out I was out after midnight." They laughed once more, before Maria pulled Bucky in for a hug. "Look, Barnes, I know this was supposed to be a date but I can tell, you're not ready for a relationship yet so how about we just stick with friends?"

"Friends sounds perfect," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek and watching her as she stumbled off down the street, laughing as she tripped on her own foot and cursed loudly. 

He then realised what she'd said. 

_'My boss'll kill me if she finds out I was out after midnight'_

"Fuck!" Buck muttered under his breath before he started to jog back to his apartment. He was supposed to meet Bruce three hours ago. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he had eleven missed calls from him, and one from Steve. He'd call Steve later, after he found out what was happening. As he arrived at his building, he dialled Bruce's number, waiting as it rang once, twice...

"Hello?"

"Bruce! I'm so sorry, man. I lost track of time." 

"It's okay, Bucky. I'm still at yours, I couldn't sleep. Are you nearly here?" 

"Yeah, two seconds away. What's going on?" 

Bruce sighed down the phone. "I don't even know how to start..."

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks, the phone in his hand falling to the floor and Bruce's voice nothing more than a whisper. The whole world beneath his feet seemed to drop out from below him and everything went black. 

Except for Steve standing in front of him. 

Steve and his tall, broad, muscular figure, wearing a shirt that was clearly to small for him. Steve with his bright, blond, sweeping hair that made it look like he wore a halo. Steve with his green eyes, flecked with gold and blue and full of life. 

"Bucky," he croaked, falling towards him, but pulling himself back at the last minute. Bucky had completely frozen. He wanted desperately to reach out and touch him but he had lost all power to move. 

"...St-Steve?" He managed after a moment of silence. "Is it you?" 

Steve nodded. Then Bucky's perception came back to him and he realised that something was desperately, desperately wrong. 

Steve and his thinning, weak and frail figure, trembling in the hallway. Steve with his dirty, greasy, graying hair. Steve with his dark, hollow, lifeless eyes. "Steve, what's wrong with you?" 

"Bucky, you can't go in there," he wheezed, one hand holding onto his stomach. Bucky didn't understand how he had deteriorated so much since just last week when he saw him last, when he was able to out-sprint Bucky without even breaking a sweat. On closer inspection, Bucky saw a sweltering, purple bruise growing up Steve's neck, seemingly increasing in size as they spoke. 

"Are you hurt?" Bucky asked, reaching out his hand to touch Steve, who simply pulled away. 

"Bucky, please, don't go in there. He'll lie to you, they'll all lie to you. Please, I can't let go," Steve mumbled, tears prickling at his eyes. Bucky didn't understand, what was Steve talking about?

"Steve, you don't have to let go. You can come back, you can live with me again. I can love you again. Please, let me look after you, I can help you." 

"You don't understand," Steve shouted, lifting his frail arms and wiping his face. "I can't, I can't do it. I can't leave him." 

"What? Steve, I'm not asking you to leave," Bucky replied. "I want you to stay." 

Steve sank to his knees, shaking his head. "I can't leave, I can't leave. I don't want to leave. Please, don't make me," he muttered the same words over and over again, not even directing it at Bucky, just to himself. Bucky was so confused, he was desperately trying to think about what was happening, thinking through every possibility, every single thing that could have happened to him that night. Voices and people swirled around him, but he didn't know what was real and what was in his mind. All he could think was Steve, and Steve, and Steve and then he remembered. 

 

* * *

 

 

_24.04.14_

_There was a soft breeze, nothing too choppy but just enough to blow Steve's hair out of his eyes as he threw his arm over Bucky. "I love spending time with the guys," he said. "They make life so much more fun then when I just have to hang out with you."_

_"Oi!" Bucky shoved him off, but Steve just laughed at him, pinching at his sides before swinging around, walking backwards so that he could be in front of Bucky. "No one's asking you to hang out with me, Rogers," Bucky growled. "You're just here because you can't get enough of me."_

_"Caught red-handed, I suppose," Steve chuckled, stopping in his tracks and looping his arms around Bucky's waist. "I just can't help being in love with you, Buck."_

_Bucky laughed at his cheesy line, brushing his lips over Steve's as they embraced. Who knew that a human heart could feel like this? Like it's going to explode with joy at the mere touch of another human? "Come on, let's head home. I want to snuggle," Steve laughed, grabbing Bucky's hand._

_"Wait, Steve," Bucky stopped, looking down at the pavement. "Look, I don't have a, no wait, that's not how I'm gonna start it. Wait, give me a second," he mumbled, gathering his thoughts. He finally looked up to see Steve already grinning over at him with a tear in his eye._

_"If you're gonna ask what I think you're gonna ask then please don't."_

_Bucky felt like his heart was about to snap in two. "...What?"_

_"No, no, no! Not like that," Steve said, running to Bucky and pulling him in for a hug. "I swear, Barnes, we've talked about your puppy-dog eyes." Steve pulled out of the hug and placed a hand Bucky's shoulder. "I'm saying, please don't ask because I was going to do it when we got home."_

_Bucky grinned so wide he thought that his face was going to break. "Are you serious?"_

_"Serious? I don't know what you're talking about Barnes, as far as I'm aware we haven't talked about anything since we left the bar," he said, winking at Bucky._

_"Right, right, of course," Bucky replied, trying to contain his grin. They arrived at Steve's motorcycle, Steve passing Bucky his helmet. "I hate that you let me wear this thing, we really ought to buy another one for me."_

_"I know, I know, but I'd rather it were me than you."_

_"Shut your cakehole, Rogers, now you better prepare one incredible proposal so I can reward you with the best engagement present ever, if you know what I mean," Bucky laughed, whispering the last part of his sentence into Steve's ear. "Now, hit it."_

_"Yessir," Steve replied, turning the ignition. "Oh, and Buck? I love you so much, you know that right?"_

_Bucky smiled. "I love you too."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. Is this what you expected? If not, let me know what you did expect! if so then damn gurl you are psychic or some shit. 
> 
> If you didn't understand it then hang tight, the epilogue will be out as soon as poss. thanks again for reading and don't forget to comment what you thought, i'd love to hear your feedback, positive or negative.


	7. just promise me we'll be alright

_to the outside, the dead leaves lay on the lawn,_  
for they don't have trees to hang upon,  
at every occasion I'll be ready for the funeral 

 

* * *

 

 

**Two weeks later**

 

There were eleven people that knew Steve Rogers had passed away. 

First to find out was Natasha - she was the name on Steve's file if anything were to happen to him, her and Bucky but for obvious reasons the doctors couldn't tell him at the time. Natasha had told Sam and Clint when Bucky woke up the first time, and they unanimously agreed to wait to tell him. 

Looking back on it now, that had been a bad decision. 

With enough pestering, Tony Stark could get anyone to tell him anything, and so he was the next to find out with Bruce followed shortly after. 

There was only really one more person that needed to know that Steve had gone. The one that needed to know the most, and nobody knew how to tell him. Luckily - though luck was hardly involved in this situation - Bucky seemed to have remembered himself when he stumbled through his apartment door at two o'clock in the morning to find his five friends waiting for him, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

The other five people had either served with Steve on his tours of duty, or now worked with him and Sam. The last person was Maria Hill - Bucky didn't say much these days but he had asked for Maria to come to the funeral. 

Clad in black, the eleven of them barely occupied the front two rows of the church, their footsteps echoing through the vast hall as they walked down the aisle. 

Probably not how Bucky had imagined walking up the aisle to Steve. 

As they took their seats, Bruce stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat.

He scanned the crowd of people in front of him. He supposed it wasn't really a crowd, more like a group. Most of them stared ahead blankly, staring at the coffin. 

"Uh, so when Steve and I met," Bruce began, his voice the only sound resonating through the church, "I was a doctor on the battlefield. I was about ten years older than him, but he towered over me. He was with this guy - I think his name was Rhodes - who'd just fallen from his plane and was broken up pretty bad. Steve was jeopardizing his entire mission by helping Rhodes back on his feet, back to where I could treat him. I remember, he walked into the tent I was working in and I asked him if he was crazy. He said, "Not last time I checked, sir." And with that, he ran back out to find more men that had been left behind. Nowhere in the world will you find more courage and determination than you do on the battlefield, but never had I seen as much as that which I saw in Steven G. Rogers."

Everyone in the room collectively nodded. 

"It wasn't just bravery. Steve had the kindest, gentlest, biggest heart of anyone I'd ever met. The guy was like a huge, walking puppy for goodness sake. He loved all his friends with every ounce of him that he could muster, and even in his last act did he act out of love. I know that I never said thank you enough. Thank you for being a fantastic friend. Thank you for being a wonderful person. Thank you for being there whenever anyone needed you, no matter what the cost. If I could say one more thing to Steve, I wouldn't say goodbye. He always hated goodbyes. I would say thank you." 

A head peered through the back of the church door. A tall blond. No one could see him this time. The ten or so of them at the front all gathered together, hugging Bruce, hugging Bucky, hugging everyone. They all said 'Thank you' and began to file out of the church. Up ahead, there was one person left at the front. 

His head hung low, his long dark hair dripping into his face. "Thank you, Steve."

He looked at Bucky. 

"I love you, you punk." 

He smiled. 

_I love you too, jerk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. This has been one hell of a journey for me, I hope you liked the ride! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, I'd love to hear what you have to say. I'll be posting some of my new work over the next couple of weeks so please don't forget to check that out too.


End file.
